


Mud in your eyes

by tendderpreyyy



Category: Deadwood
Genre: F/M, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 05:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12763929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendderpreyyy/pseuds/tendderpreyyy
Summary: One of my earliest and most beloved fandoms I arrived too late for...You've got mud in your eyesand I don't careYou've got blood on your teethbut I don't careYou've got grass on your skinand I don't careYou've got dirt on your handsand I don't careWant you to take my handand come with meDon't mind the dirt or bloodYou're all I needYou've got dog skinwell I don't careYou've got lead in your lungswell I don't careYou've got junk in your trunkand I don't careYou've got tin in your titswell I don't careGot bugs in your teethwell I don't careYou've got dirt on your handswell I don't careYou've got glass on your hairand I don't careYou've got filth on your mindwell I don't careTar, skin, blood, teeth,lead, lungs, dirt, handdark, dog, grass, headand in your eyesin your eyes





	Mud in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> One of my earliest and most beloved fandoms I arrived too late for... 
> 
> You've got mud in your eyes  
> and I don't care  
> You've got blood on your teeth  
> but I don't care  
> You've got grass on your skin  
> and I don't care  
> You've got dirt on your hands  
> and I don't care  
> Want you to take my hand  
> and come with me  
> Don't mind the dirt or blood  
> You're all I need  
> You've got dog skin  
> well I don't care  
> You've got lead in your lungs  
> well I don't care  
> You've got junk in your trunk  
> and I don't care  
> You've got tin in your tits  
> well I don't care  
> Got bugs in your teeth  
> well I don't care  
> You've got dirt on your hands  
> well I don't care  
> You've got glass on your hair  
> and I don't care  
> You've got filth on your mind  
> well I don't care  
> Tar, skin, blood, teeth,   
> lead, lungs, dirt, hand  
> dark, dog, grass, head  
> and in your eyes  
> in your eyes

 

She calls him 'Mr.Dan', the dust kicks up behind her, settles on the hem of her skirt. 

He's thankful for the brim of his own hat. Obscuring fully the slackness in his jaw along with the flush working itself, ruddy and persistent up his neck to settle in his cheeks. 

"Good morning, Mr.Dan,"  she calls to him again and Dan tips his hat; half in courtesy and half so as not to agitate the headache he was nursing. 

Dan hasn't slept well the previous night. Nor the one before that. He was standing and pacing in front of The Gem, alternating when it suited him. Smoking tirelessly and brooding through either course. 

" Mornin'  Miss." Dan's voice is hoarse and harsh to his own ears. Save a quirk to the left corner of her mouth, she seems not to notice or out of politeness(for him?) makes no comment. 

The incline of her head is gentle; passing by him almost under his nose by any judgement. Headache and morning sun dazzlement notwithstanding. 

It happens so fast; her skirt brushing the toe of his boots, no decently minded soul could fault her. 

Already hurried to the doorway, already fetching one of the caravan hands, who's bound to be reeling drunk in place of him working. 

Whether it was brothers, cousins, or more distant relatives that would bring a young woman: well spoken and healthy minded to The Gem. Dan preferred not to dwell on it. Though not three days could pass without the sound of her boots on the threshold.

~

_"Maybe She's got sweethearts?." Johnny had supposed in a conversation past, hissing through the last part and grinning like a loon._

_Dan remembered their faces; half a dozen different men, none of any import. Minor bar scuffles perhaps but not a single cheat, cut purse, or whore-beater in the bunch. Irritation at the thought had bubbled up in Dan's throat nonetheless._

_His look was enough to shut Johnny Burn's mouth right quick and lightning like._

_Dan's tensed knuckles were ten matching white points against the dark wood of the bar counter_.

 ~

Her reappearing through the door helps to shake the shadows from his mind. 

In front of him she's empty handed and hopping over the puddles in the thoroughfare. 

Her skirt is kicked up to her shins with enthusiasm; Dan wills himself not to notice.

Looking into her face instead, somehow ends up feeling worse. 

" He isn't here. Not today atleast..." Either she's telling him or fishing for an answer, "I hear tell you're drinks and odds are the best." 

" They do say that." Dan shifts from foot to foot, squinting away from the sun and into the halo of her hair absentmindedly. 

" All my Pa's men say so... As does he! No lady luck here today, for me leastways." She says the last part with a lilt, pinned on like an afterthought. 

Dan isn't used to making this sort of conversation. Civilized and meandering; not to mention with a woman. 

His headache is not improving, Dan considers drinking early. Considers the girl in front of him; her mud spattered boots and stocking clad shins.

" With the caravans from back East huh?" Dan offers over the sound of him popping and cracking his knuckles.

He's got a shirt behind the bar; threadbare with use, and one Dan is no longer fond of. While her boots are covered with filth from a useless trip she ought'nt have made. 

Now he's almost got a palm slapped over his own trap to keep from offering too. 

" Yes, I... Rather, we're on through Cheyenne" taking a breath like she's been waiting for this and rushing to continue " Pa and I run for the Stantler's." 

Dan hums in affirmation, cursing inwardly with his other faculties deserting him. Having only the most basic knowledge of the Stantler operation(soft, eastern sensibilities with no penchant for foul play or outright warfare), he elected to stay silent. 

Offering the most offhanded shrug possible; with his aching everything on top of no restful night that he could recently recall.

She responds as though Dan is actually conversing with her. Tapping the toe of her boot and scraping off shit and mud alike. She smiles wide adding,

" I'm off to the Union next... Perhaps I will be luckier?" 

"Watch yourself." The words tumbled out before Dan knew it. 

The mud and shit tap, tap, tapping off her heels; Dan tastes it in his mouth again. 

Remembers not a week before killing a man beneath him, rolling up filth back from his own lungs. 

Deadwood is a dangerous place.

She's staring at him,  mouth slightly agape. 

There's honesty across her expression (clumsy and unladylike), pinkened tip of her tongue perched on the gap of her bottom front teeth. 

Dan feels like he's been laid out in the street again. 

" I only meant that traipsing off after your Daddy's boys the way you been..." Words fall out of him faster than he can bite his lip to stop them.

Knowing every cocksucker within earshot knows it too; hearing Dority making an ass out of himself in front of God and everybody with some caravaneer's daughter.

" Traipsing; Mr.Dan, is a condition of my employment." She's not giggling at him, not yet. 

However Dan sees she's biting her lip with the effort, knows that she's new enough that she just might anyway. 

The lack of concern she seems to have for his reputation, The Gem, and hell everything else about their customary chats is charming. If Dan had to decide on a word. 

Luckily these days Dan didn't decide much of anything. 

On some level he welcomes the sound of her amusement. Even if it's at his expense and goddamned lack of self control. 

The laughter of young women was not often heard in the town of Deadwood. 

That isn't what he hears though, She's kinder than that it would seem; preferring to blithely drawl 

" 'Sides, I prefer to stretch my legs. I can only stand being cooped up in a stage coach for so long." Making a face at him, scrunching her nose comically has Dan's heart doing flips in his chest. 

He almost feels sick the way he did with his arm and shoulder popped out from running into Al's solid door. It's better than choking on mud again but only just. 

" Do you ride well?" Dan asks it like she's just some stranger blown in. Doesn't catch her flush(or smirk) in time. By all accounts she shouldn't be talking to him anyway, this proves it. He's no good at conversation, not smart like Al, Si, even that Doctor fellow; only good for a good brawl or pouring a stiff drink. 

" I ride quite well, Sir. In fact I prefer it. Not the most well traveled, mind." She's almost under his nose again, shaded by his hat brim when she laughs close enough Dan smells coffee.

" I'm always amicable to steadier hands. Working here I'm liable to believe you know ways around being cooped up." She titters nervously, he still can't help thinking It's at him. Dan can't help ghost of a smile starting at one corner of his jaw, the way he's enjoying it. 

When he meets her eyes the intensity takes him aback. Uncaring that the sun is fully up and so is the whole damn town. 

Dan feels eyes in his back, knows Johnny will have a mouthful to fling his way; the knowledge that Al's balcony overhangs just a foot or so too much so he can't properly see is what keeps him rooted to the spot. 

It's so quick he almost flinches; the rapping of her knuckles against the sweaty brim of his hat. Knocking it further back into his long hair when she turns away, 

" Goodbye Mr.Dan. Let's continue this discussion after I've improved my luck and found that shift dodging son of..." Waving her one hand while the other gives him a peek up to the back of her knee for just a second, 

" I'd hate to spoil a ride with poor odds on my part." She's vanishing into the bustle of the thoroughfare leaving Dan alone again with sunshine hitting his already hot cheeks. 

Her laughter rings in his ears longer than the sound of another man dying in a puddle. The one sided conversation chasing away a bone deep exhaustion for one blessed second. 

He's thankful for the sun on his face, thankful for being talked to instead of at, and when Dan passes through the threshold himself it isn't danger he thinks of. 

A good ride isn't such a bad idea. 


End file.
